


A Christmas Miracle

by accioslash



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 11:39:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8749213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accioslash/pseuds/accioslash
Summary: >“Miracles are like pimples and wrinkles, because once you start looking for them you find more than you ever dreamed you'd see.”  ~ Lemony Snicket, The Lump of Coal





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suitesamba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suitesamba/gifts).



> There is nothing better than a good friend. Unless it is a good friend with some chocolate, amaretto sours, and perhaps pie. Thank you for being such a good friend. <3

The annual Christmas broadcast at the WWN once again featured "The Singing Sorceress," Celestina Warbeck. The program included a diverse medley of her most popular tunes including a "A Cauldron Full of Hot and Strong Love" and "You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me." But it ended with the unusual selection of a popular Christmas carol composed by another schoolmaster almost two hundred years prior. 

Headmaster Snape listened to last notes of "Silent Night" until even the memory of them faded. He was sure he could hear Harry's quiet inhale and exhale of breath in the cool quiet of the room. He wasn't sure that he wasn't imagining it, but combined with the snow falling outside his window and the spices on the chicken they'd eaten, it was a pleasantly romantic notion.

He glanced back over his shoulder at Harry, who was sprawled, boneless, on his couch. Harry's eyes were closed, his robes open and the collar of the white shirt underneath, unbuttoned. Harry had his arms resting against the back of the couch and his ankles crossed on the coffee table, and, for once, Severus didn't mind.

Severus reached across the top of his desk and pulled a small piece of parchment from the cluttered surface towards him. He picked up the self-inking Quill he used for marking - the slight movement waking the Auror on his couch - and he felt Harry's eyes on him. He ignored whatever questioning look Harry was sending his way, and reread his Christmas list.

It wasn't a typical Christmas list. Nothing so ordinary for Severus Snape. No, most people made a list of the material objects they felt they deserved to compensate for the failings of the year just gone, or things needed to prepare themselves for the year ahead. Instead, as was proper for a Potions Master, Severus wrote a list of ingredients. Not for Dreamless Sleep or even Felix Felicis. But a list of ingredients necessary to make Christmas day better than all the other days of the year. 

He had crossed off 'good company,' 'hot food,' and 'excellent wine' after Harry had first mentioned that he'd be coming over. He'd crossed off 'laughter' and 'generosity' before he'd even sat at his desk behind the chess set. Now and again he permitted the man to win a game and, in turn, Harry would permit Severus to believe Harry didn't know. Harry looked ridiculously content. Few people were allowed the privilege of a game in the headmaster's private quarters, but Harry has always been an exception.

There was just one more item on Severus's list. And that item was closer to something that would appear on a traditional Christmas list - something he wanted that he certainly wouldn't get on a normal day. Perhaps _any_ day. But it was Christmas and he has been told it was a time for miracles. And although the years since the end of the second war have not made him any less cynical, and sarcastic he may be, he has always believed in miracles. He had simply written 'Harry.' And although he could have stuck through the name based on nothing more than the man's presence, this particular ingredient was meant for a different potion than dinner and a companionable game of chess.

He looked up into the darkness of Harry's sleepy eyes, took a deep breath and crossed the name off his list. Sometime in the distant past, between the first (and only) Mrs Potter and a small assortment of what he liked to think of as 'any port in a storm', Snape had had a plan to pursue Harry. But right now, he had no need for a plan. He needed only determination, a relaxed Harry, and a day for miracles. Harry looked like he might sleep here. It wouldn’t be the first time, though the other times had involved more elf-made wine. A _lot_ more elf-made wine.

“You up for another game?” Harry asked, words catching on a yawn.

“I have more interesting things to do on Christmas,” Severus drawled. “I haven’t obtained everything on my list yet,” he clarified upon seeing the unspoken question in Harry's eyes. Still an open book even after all these years. Severus placed the parchment carefully on top of the desk, and pushed himself to his feet. He took a carefully deliberate step towards Harry. 

Harry tensed. His posture didn't change, but his eyes lost their sleepy, relaxed look as he focused on Snape and his arms were held stiffly against the back of the couch. He looked like he’d just been force-fed a live goldfish and stolen its expression. “Uh…”

And Snape found that he couldn't just do it, whatever his belief in holiday miracles told him. He had to give Harry a way out, an opportunity to lie in any even half-convincing manner, a chance to save this much of their relationship, because it was Christmas, because Severus had had wine on top of his usual pain potions. But mostly because Severus had nearly all he wanted, and Harry had as much to lose.

So instead Severus asked, "Why are you here?" in a tone he hoped held more curiosity than irritation.

Years of association, if not quite unanimity, had given Harry some skill in ignoring Severus's tone of voice altogether. He responded by simply raising his eyebrows and answering a question with one of his own. "Isn't it a bit late to be asking philosophical questions?" He checked his watch, the one that was once owned by Molly Weasley's brother, Fabian Prewett, and given to Harry by the Weasleys on his seventeenth birthday; it was still before midnight, "or too early?"

"Not us, just you," Severus clarified. "It's Christmas. You have a tasteful home and a multitude of friends and a large extended family. Why are you _here_?" The _with me_ was clearly implied, but left unspoken.

Harry decided against the glib 'you had food' he would have usually offered. He looked up at Severus and must have seen the unusually blatant sincerity in his posture. "You don't suffer fools, well, at all. You make no time for dull people. And you trust reluctantly. But here I am, eating your food, listening to Celestina Warbeck on the WWN and drinking your very fine wine. I couldn't imagine a better evening or a greater gift."

Severus took another step forward until he was leaning over Harry. Harry hadn't moved, and his arms were still spread wide. But his eyes were tracking Snape's movements carefully and he was beginning to look trapped.

"I'm going to kiss you," Severus announced.

Harry blinked, a deliberate closing and reopening of his eyes that did nothing to clarify the situation. 

"If you want that, stand up," Severus said.

And Harry did. Severus was not a man one could easily argue against, even at the best of times, and there was no way Harry could refuse whatever he was seeing in those eyes. They were standing close enough then for Severus to raise a hand to Harry's cheek and draw him close enough that their lips pressed together.

At first it was simply a kiss, warm and wet, unfamiliar lips slid against each other and the strange sensation of stubble. Severus's fingers were gentle on Harry's cheek, and Harry raised his own hands to Severus's chest, keeping him from coming closer or moving away. And it was nice.

Then they reached a tipping point and wet became sweet, warm became desperate and Harry's fingers tightened on Severus's shirt to pull him closer. Harry sighed, his mouth opened against Severus's and their tongues found each other. Severus gasped, and pulled back against the grip Harry had on his shirt.

"Well," he said, when he regained enough breath to speak.

Harry was looking at him. His eyes were wide and slightly unfocused, but Severus had never been subject to such an intense examination before. It made his skin feel tight and he felt suddenly embarrassed.

"Can I kiss _you_ , now?" Harry asked, with a slightly lopsided grin.

Harry didn't wait for a response - especially not for a pedantic 'well, you _can_ but you also _may_ ' - but pulled Severus forward until he stumbled and they were chest to chest. Harry let out a moan at the solid sense of warmth, and his hands found their way to the back of Severus's head. Severus's arms curled around Harry's back and Harry smiled into the kiss.

Severus's last coherent thought was to wonder what he might possibly write on next year's list and to hope that maybe, just maybe, this particular Christmas miracle would last long after the day itself was merely a memory.

-The End-


End file.
